Seventy Five
by jackattaque
Summary: Set in the Giants 2008 MLB season, Barry Zito is stuck in a pitching slump and is reflecting and questioning aspects of his life. May continue. SF Giants.


A velvety darkness blanketed the room, only thin blue strips of light filtered in through the blinds from the spring moon hanging low over Cincinnati. Tears dripped like syrup along the defined runnels of his gently sloping cheeks. They dribbled intermittently from his defined chin and into dark puddles that had collected on the cool grey fabric knotted between his fingers. His face was placid, seemingly emotionless, yet cruel thoughts and horrid emotions were twisting ruthlessly within his chest. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ The young pitcher had been locked in his hotel room ever since he had seized the opportunity to slink away unnoticed. The game was an utter disaster. By the time Boch pulled him from the game, he had allowed eight runs while only earning nine outs. The offense couldn't catch up in time and the game resulted in a loss. Barry Zito was 0-6 with an Earned Runs Average of 7.53.

Things had been going downhill in all aspects of the ace's life lately. Alcohol and cocaine had burrowed their way into normalcy, and even with the second drug test of the season looming somewhere in the future, Barry had yet to change his behavior. Even the former star pitcher himself was unsure as to why. Perhaps he was so hopeless that any chance of a comeback seemed inconceivable. Maybe he was too addicted already to let the habits go. Or, as the young ace feared, he just didn't give a shit about anything anymore. His gaze was downcast toward the beige and maroon crosshatched carpet, his mouth pressed into a hard, thin line. Gradually, Barry loosened his white-knuckle grip on his away jersey; his long, spider-like fingers danced deftly across the thin fabric in attempt to smooth out the fresh creases. The blaring black and orange "75" stared back at him mockingly as he skewed his mouth and licked his lips.

Zito's particularly _active_ sexuality had always been an aspect of the ace's behavior that took particular criticism. He was the notorious womanizer of the San Francisco Giants and had rightfully earned the title, but lately things had been.. off. Usually one to shut off any type of romantic feelings, Barry had found himself in a curious predicament. He couldn't get one person off of his mind, and it wasn't someone he could pursue if he valued his profession or his dignity. Major league athletes couldn't be _gay_, it was professional suicide in every sense of the phrase, _especially _with one of his own teammates. Barry sighed and raised his hand to finger his scalp and wipe the residual sweat from his brow. _When did things get so complicated?_

As if to busy himself, the young pitcher folded his previously mussed jersey and set it beside him on the Hilton Cincinnati's gaudy de-saturated floral duvet. Barry's muddied cleats peeked out from the lip of his gym bag, which had been haphazardly thrown across the room in a fit of frustration upon his most recent arrival. At the time, rage seared through him, the angry tears sprang from his eyes as he tore off his baseball cap and slammed it onto the ground. The hat remained crumpled beside Zito's bare feet, but the pitcher couldn't bring himself to pick it up.

Just then, a loud knock called Barry's attention from his muddled thoughts and back to reality. He feverishly pawed at his eyes, desperate to wipe away all traces of moisture from his hardened features. "Get it together, Z." As he peeled the door from his frame, his stomach flipped, Tim Lincecum was standing anxiously on the other side.

"Hey Zeets." The lanky pitcher couldn't help but wear a goofy smile on his mouth despite their crushing loss earlier that evening. "Wanna' go out for a few drinks. I figured you needed a little bit of, uh, cheering up."

The older man balked, unsure how to respond as his heart fluttered rapidly in his chest and his stomach did somersaults.

"Hey.." Tim's face fell, "Hey, are you alright?" He vaguely noted the other man's red eyes and glazed stare, as well as the uncharacteristic grimace that was tacked up on his mouth.

"Uh, yeah. I'm cool." Barry struggled to falsify a smile.

"C'mon then." Tim flashed his fellow starter a genuine grin as Zito turned to pull on a pair of shoes before slinking from the hotel room. "I hope you know that I'm here for you." Timmy shot his friend a sidelong glance and reached up to give him a reassuring pat on the back. "You'll get through this, man."

Barry's gaze snapped upward as a half-smile creased his features. "Thanks Tim."


End file.
